Mortal
by NotascrazyasI
Summary: Even personifications die, and when they do they are replaced. This is the next generation of personifications. WARNINGS: This is basically consisting of ALL OCs so, yeah. Also, mass character death. Cursing. Please read! I swear, that the story is pretty good!
1. The next generation

**Mortal**

_**I'm so sorry. That's all I have to say.**_

_**Plus, I don't own Hetalia.**_

Nothing lives forever. Not even the personifications of the countries of the world. They can and do die just like any other man out there. (They just live a lot longer) So, when a certain personification dies, it's country does not suffer in any way. A new personification is 'born' in it's place. So, one could say the country is reborn into this new person. It is not resurrection, for the new personification is... different. The only thing the two share, are the memory of the first's last moments.

This is the tale of an explosion at the world meeting and the new generation of personifications.

.

"What's this?!" The personification of Germany asked the delivery boy. His annoyance couldn't help but show, scaring the crap out of the poor boy. He was just trying to get through high school, dammit! He didn't sign up for a scary as hell German yelling at him!

"I-it's a-a package addressed to this meeting hall." He responded, a stutter making itself known. He stood up as straight as he could, stiff as a board.

"Just... set it over there." Ludwig ordered, pointing to an out of the way corner. He'd just have to deal with it later. Right now, it was his job to keep all the countries from killing each other. One of these days, he swore Arthur might actually kill the personification of France. Though he did often wonder what the new personification would be like... He shook away that thought. It would be odd without any of the countries. Even the creepy Frenchman.

So with this thought, he headed for the long table, leaving the delivery boy to set down the cardboard box where he had been instructed too. With that done, the Junior quickly walked away. The hair on the back of his neck prickled with unease. He sensed something _very _bad was about to happen, and he did _not _want to be around when it happened.

He couldn't have been closer to the truth.

.

_Yesterday, a large explosion went off in famous meeting hall, The _

_Roseann. 196 deaths on record.__ Continued on page 9._

.

**Washington D.C., United States of America **

A sigh left John's lips as he stared down at the extravagant grave in front of him. It was much nicer than any of the other graves surrounding him, which seemed a little ridiculous. If he was to be at his final resting point, he wouldn't want to draw that much attention. Then again, Alfred had supposedly always been one for attention. Grief washed through John, nearly knocking him over with it's intensity. "I never even met you." He murmured to the previous personification of the United States of America. The dead personification. The man in the grave. His 'father' you could say.

Deciding a switch of topics was in order, he vowed, "I promise I'll find the bastards responsible. And I promise I'll watch over England." He could feel his father's pain at the Englishman's death. Whoever England's personification was, he'd make sure to help him in times of need. As his father would say, he'd be the 'hero'. "See ya, Dad." With these promises in the air, he left Arlington, knowing he'd be back if only to talk to a grave.

**London, England**

Oliver sat on a bench across from an old cemetery, pain in his grey-blue eyes, and it wasn't just from the recent wound. This pain came from the loss of a great man, a pain that was echoed throughout all his people. "You'll be missed, old man."

A thought caused a tearing feeling in his gut. He voiced it out loud. "On our native soil. I can't face the rest of the world now. They'll blame me for sure." Absently, he gently traced a line over the burn positioned right over his heart. London. "Give me courage old man, I'll need it."

**Paris, France **

"Crétin! Crétin!" Chloé sobbed, laying her face on the simple gravestone. She managed to stop herself from complete emotional takeover. Still, her sobs could not be stifled. "I don't know anything about taking over France! All I know is l'amour!" A couple passed her then, watching as she sobbed. They had no idea that she was crying for a man she had never met, and they never would. They hurried along, not wanting to watch this moment of weakness.

Wiping away her tears, she sat up on the damp grass. Determination flashed across her gaze. "I'll be show them what it means to cherish love!"

**Beijing, China**

Lian stared down at the grave in front of her with blank eyes. Well, that's what she appeared to be doing. She was really just trying to keep from crying in front of all these strangers. She may have been no more than a day old, but she looked around thirty. Too old to be crying, especially for a man that she hadn't been alive to meet. Why was everyone staring at her like she wasn't supposed to be there? This was her _bàba_! She had every right to be here that they had, the people who didn't even know he was a personification. Anger boiled in her, forcing out the grief. How she would've loved for all those people to go away, or better yet, crawl into one of the graves.

**Moscow, Russia**

Snow swirled around Dmitry, making him shiver. His small frame was buffeted by strong winter winds. This was not the time to be outside, but he braved the weather for the soul purpose of visiting Ivan's grave. He deserved his respects and that's just what Dmitry was going to give him, even when no one else would. His feet felt heavy with both the cold and grief that enveloped him. Finally, he reached the cemetery where his 'father' lay. He stood there, not even trying to hide his tears. They froze on his cheeks, but he barely noticed. "You tried to save them all." He whispered, the memory of his father's last moments fresh in his mind.

"You tried, but it was too late."

**Tokyo, Japan**

Ren rolled his eyes at the reserved gravestone in front of him. "It's not really fitting is it? From the kinda man I'm told you were, you should've been given something bigger." He could sense his father's spirit hanging around. A stern feeling filled him. "Don't yell at me. It's the truth." Yes, he was talking to the spirit of his father. No, he wasn't crazy. Just... a medium. So, it made sense that he could talk to his father. Another emotion that wasn't his own filled him; anxiety. "Don't worry. I'll play nice with the other countries, as long as they don't mess with those two Italians." Relief and a little bit of curiosity. "You know, you were a lot less nosy when you were alive." Ren commented bitterly. Amusement. "That wasn't supposed to be funny. Now, shoo. I gotta get ready for the World Meeting." Annoyance. "Oyasuminasai."

**Rome, Italy**

Two twins leaned against each other for support. One of them, Rosa, appearing to take it harder than her brother. She was sobbing into his shoulder while her comforted her. "It's just not fair! Why did they have to die for us to live?!" She asked her brother, glancing up only long enough to ask the question, before returning her face to his shirt. "Angelo, why did he have to be so brave in the end?"

Angelo smiled gently at his sister, a feat that was harder than he wished for her to believe. "So that we could remember him as a brave, brave man that gave his life trying to save the German." His sister's greenish eyes turned cold at these words. Anger towards Germany spiked up in her. Her brother felt this and sensed trouble ahead.

**Berlin, Germany**

Luka stared at the grave in disgust. Though the disgust wasn't directed at his 'Vati' it was at himself. He felt like the last minute replacement of a broken gear. He was dirty and rusted, but better than nothing at all, if just barely. He was only there until there was time to replace him. With disgust, anger flared. "Stupid, how could I replace such a great man?! My people are going to hate me!" Suddenly, the memory of his Vati's death came back forcefully. Brushing it away, he sighed. "You trying to tell me something?" He asked the grave. "Yeah, yeah. I'll try my best."

**Madrid, Spain **

Sofia sprinted through the crowded streets, constantly running into different people and murmuring apologizes. The one thing no one saw were the tears streaming down her face. She wouldn't accept it. Where was Antonio? He had to be here! That memory couldn't be real! But, she heard the message it brought loud and clear. **"****Watch over South Italy" **But _how_?! How could she watch over him when she didn't even knew who he was?!

**Ottawa, Canada **

"SON OF A BITCH!" Abigail yelled at the gravestone. "You idiotic son of a bitch! The day you die is the first day you make people notice you?! UGH! I can't believe you!"

"Abigail..." Kumajiro nudged her with his cold nose. "Don't yell at him." Abigail turned around with a sour expression. "Who?!" She demanded, making the polar bear's gaze fill with guilt. She turned away from the bear, and faced her father's grave again. "Trust me, no one will _dare _say that to _me_!"

**Budapest, Hungary**

Katalin cried terribly. Her eyes were red and swollen from her tears, but she did not care. Her 'mother' had just died. Someone in her country -a hero- had just died. Her little innocent heart was being squeezed in a painful way that was horrible for her. She ran a hand over the smooth grave, her tears falling along with the rain that seemed so cliche to everyone else. It just seemed cold to her. How could she possibly handle her mother's people and land when she felt so young and naive. "Give me strength, Mom."

**Victoria, Seychelles **

Eliana sat on the edge of the cliff looking out at the ocean below her. Her bare feet swung slowly. She had the sudden urge to swim in the churning waters of her island, but ignored it. This was a day to mourn, not to swim. She opened her mouth and began to sing a wordless, mournful tune. A dolphin chirps somewhere below her, joining in the song. She smiles sadly. "Even the island's creatures miss you." She whispers.

**Hanoi, Vietnam **

Thanh Ha was was in pain. She hadn't known her 'mother', but it had still hurt like hell whenever she thought of the day of her death. The burning, the screams, the flash. It was all maddening. Yet, none of these were the worst. The worst was the shattering feeling in her chest. A single tear slid down her cheek as a name filled her mind, the same name her 'mother' had screamed as she died. **"Gilbert"**

**Tallinn, Estonia**

Viktor pushed his glasses further up his nose, praying the wouldn't fall off when he bent down to retrieve his fallen books. When he straightened, hhe came face to face with the warrior that rose above his father's grave. He was still slightly insulted that no one bothered to ask him what _he _wanted his father's grave to look like. Though, to everyone else he was just this random boy that had decided to show up at the hero's funeral. At least now he was alone without any pestering eyes. "Don't worry father, I've got this." _'I think...'_

**Riga, Latvia**

Markuss had to be brave. His people had just lost their hero. They needed a new one to rise above and help them, and that had to be him. He was the personification of Latvia. He'd be the hero they needed. This being what he promised the small boy's grave. With a salute, he finished, "I can be their prince!"

**Vilnius, Lithuania**

Matas wasn't crying. He didn't care about a man he'd never met before. That would be stupid. He _wasn't _crying. Oh hell, he was crying. Only a little bit though! When your forced to remember someones painful death, of course you would cry! "I-I'm not crying!" He insisted to no one.

**Minsk, Belarus**

Anastasiya refused to wear a dress. There was no way in _hell _they could get her to wear such a girly thing. Didn't they get how _humiliating _that was for the young tomboy? Well, who cares anyway. She wore black jeans, wasn't that enough?

Anastasiya didn't cry. She found it silly to cry for someone she's never met before. But she did feel grief. Her 'mother' had loved that Russian to the very end, yet all he did was push her away? What a dick. Hatred spiked inside her, making her imagine stabbing the tall Russian multiple times with her mother's knife. Oh yeah, this next meeting was gonna be a helluva fun time.

**Kiev, Ukraine**

Mariya didn't mind the rain. It meant she could have a rest for today, instead of breaking her back watering her crops. It was a pain, and she was still grieving. Katyusha had been a kind woman, even in her last moments. Mariya could feel her people's sadness as well as her own. It was a little overwhelming and distracting. So instead of working, she mourned for the hero of her people. "You were great."

**Vaduz, Liechtenstein**

Alec refused to go to the ceremony with his 'big brother'. Screw him! It wasn't even in his homeland! Why the hell should he go?! So with that thought, he stayed home, mourning for the little girl who had died in his own way. She was too young for him to think of her as his mother. If she was still alive today, he would actually look older than her. The scowl that he wore constantly only adding to his apparent age. He wore such an expression now as he stared up at his ceiling. "Bye, Sis. I've got things now."

**Berne, Switzerland**

Nico was the first to accept it. It wasn't his fault, nor was it his 'father's'. It was whoever had sent the bomb, and like all the other personifications at one time, he promised his father to find the wo/man responsible. He also promised to watch over his people as best he could. "Don't worry. I won't fail you!"

**Warsaw, Poland **

Filip was a man. Men don't cry. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't sad for the young woman who had died in the explosion. She couldn't have been older than thirty. Plus, she was a known hero in Poland. It was a huge loss for his land and people. But still, he didn't cry. "I'll stay tough for ya, ma'am." He said to the air. "Trust me."

**City of Brussels, Belgium**

Noah cradled the bottle in his hands, while chatting up the pretty girl next to him. Elise was it? Or Ellen? God, he couldn't remember. Did it really matter? "So, what do you think of Bella's death?" She managed to ask the one question he didn't want to answer.

"Well..." He said, dragging out the word to stall for time. What to say, what to say? "Of course, it's horrible for all of the country. She was such an amazing woman." He flinched at the memory of her death. He downed the beer in his hands.

**Copenhagen, Denmark **

"Well," Isabella said, "You tried your best old man. I'll drink to that." She raised the crystal glass in her hands, before swallowing it all. "Now it's my turn."

**Helsinki, Finland**

Aleski hated the cold snow brought. Sure, snow was pretty cool but he really really hated being cold in any way. That was what kept him from going to his father's grave. This didn't fill him with as much guilt as it should have. He had never met the man after all, why should he be all broken up about it? He hadn't asked to be born/created/whatever. It was their fault for dying. Still, he had a country to watch over. "You can count on me."

**Reykjavik, Iceland**

Katrin loved animals more than she loved human beings. She could understand animals easier than humans, she could talk to them easier than humans. Animals were just _easier_. There didn't have all these unspoken rules that you had to follow, they didn't bother her about showing her emotions. When she cried, they snuggled with her, when she laughed it was usually because of something they did.

Because of her connection with animals, she shut out most humans. This made it painful when she went to the funeral. Everyone stared at her when she sobbed, like it was something wrong to be crying at a funeral. Then they had the nerve to ask her what she was doing there! These were _her _people?! Well, screw them! She liked animals better anyway.

**Oslo, Norway **

Emil wasn't really sure what to think about all of this. He'd never met this man, but he still had the memory of his death fresh in his mind. That gave him a closer connection with him than anyone else who _had _met him. And frankly? They didn't know him as well as he did. "Don't worry." He muttered to the gravestone. "Everything's great on my end."

**Stockholm****, Sweden**

Elsa couldn't stop talking. That's what happened when she got nervous. "-no one likes me?! What if everyone hates me?! I can't talk to the rest of the world! I don't know anything about anything! Why did you have to leave me in charge?! I mean-" Yep, she was yelling at a grave. But, well no one was around so it was okay.

**Athens, Greece **

Aikaterine stroked the kitten's soft fur, before burying her face into it. The warmth comforted her, but it wasn't enough to stop the tears from flowing. It didn't matter that she never met him, she had experienced his death the moment before she came into this world, to anybody that would be daunting. To a young girl like her? Crushing. "I-I'm so sorry!" She sobbed into the kitten's flank.

**Ankara, Turkey**

Onur found the mask creepy. Really creepy. Actually, he found the previous personification of Turkey all around creepy. Man, if he was supposed to act like _that _then he would have to break a few rules. There was no way he was going to be such a creep. Well, at least the people at the world meeting were in for a pleasant surprise.

**Vienna, Austria**

Lena was eating cake. She did not care for the ceremonies of the dead. Too many people around to make nice with and pretend she wasn't completely overridden with guilt. It was hard enough pretending to herself. "It's not like it's my fault or anything! He died by a bomb!" She said out loud, hoping to convince herself. No such luck. "Yeah, but I'm also alive because he's dead..." She murmured.

**London, England **

Gilbert watched in horror as the building burned. A scream caught in his throat as he ran towards it, only to be held back by another micronation. Saro most likely, Peter and Sky couldn't hold him back even if they tried. Still, Gilbert barely noticed as his scream finally dislodged itself from his throat. "WEST! VIET! DAMMIT NO!" Pain exploded in his chest just as violently as the explosion in front of him. Saro's restraining arms soon became the only thing keeping him up. One thought flashed across his mind.

"**Why couldn't it have been me?"**

* * *

**_Oh, the cliches..._**

**_'Kay, that's all done FINALLY! It was absolute CRAP having to brainstorm half of those. Anyway, it was actually fun writing this (Oh what a horrible person am I for having fun writing about the entire Hetalia cast dying), so I hope you at least have a little fun reading this. I can't wait for the next chapter, but from the way things have been going, there will be a bit of a wait. Sorry 'bout that. It's just horrible juggling school and writer's block. And since I can't hire a clown (Scary ass things...) to do it for me, I'll just have to deal the best I can. Sorry again._**

**_Also, as you might've been able to guess, there will be... interesting pairings. _**

**_REVIEW! W! DO IT!_**

**_Kiwi \(*0*)/_**


	2. The First Meeting

**Tokyo, Japan**

The meeting hall was crawling with personifications. Not just the new ones, but also the ghosts of the old one. It looked like everyone wanted to see how their 'children' coped. It was suffocating for Ren. Emotions ran rampant through him. Couldn't any of them have moved on or headed for the light or something? Apparently not.

Ren had learned right from the start how to block out the emotions but with the overwhelming amount he just couldn't find his focus. So, he stood in the doorway, suffering form all the emotions.

Kiku appeared right in front of Ren, his expression matching the concern suddenly filling Ren. "Don't worry you old fart." Ren muttered so no one could hear him talking to thin air. "I just need to focus, that's all."

He tried and got pretty close... when two twins walked into the room from the opposite door, followed by the ghosts of the two Italians he remembered through Kiku. He brushed the memory away, along with all the swirling emotions inside of him. With something else to focus on now, it was easy.

The younger appearing girl caught his gaze and smiled hugely. Ren couldn't help but stare. She was so _cute_! She had vibrant green eyes and chocolate colored hair which she left to flow around her shoulder. A sprinkle of freckles were dusted across the bridge of her petite nose.

"Hello! My name's Rosa!" She exclaimed cheerfully. Her voice was laced with a thick Italian accent. She ran forward, sticking her hand out for him to shake. Behind her, her brother followed more slowly.

The only things the twins had in common were their tanned skin and slim features. Rosa's brother had dirty blonde hair, more brown than blonde really, and had hazel eyes that glittered with amusement as he watched his sister introduce herself in the cutest way possible.

Rosa suddenly stiffened and retracted her hand. She turned to glare at her brother. "I was just being friendly, Angelo!" She snapped, confusing Ren.

"You were being cute." Angelo shot back, a impish grin stretching across his face.

Ren faded into the background with the ghosts he sensed as the siblings continued to argue. Well, Rosa argued while Angelo just teased her.

"I am _not _cute!" She yelled, her face turning red. Which actually just made her look cuter.

"Sorry sis, you are." He replied, not sounding sorry at all. The amusement in his hazel eyes increased.

So these were the Italian twins. Not exactly what he'd been expecting. But really, he had based them off of Kiku's memory. Nobody here was what he'd expected them to be. Well, the personification of France was a _girl _for one.

"Ah, hello."

Ren raised his head at the sound of a German accented voice. In front of him stood a young teen -appearing to be about sixteen- with shaggy blonde hair and dusty brown eyes. On his face he wore a guarded expression along with glasses. Behind him stood the previous personification of Germany.

Ren could sense anxiety coming off in waves from Ludwig as he hovered behind his 'child'. Ren couldn't help but wonder if it had to do with the fenced off attitude his 'child' sprouted. He appeared to be a hard person to get to know.

Remembering that he had been greeted, Ren worked for a welcoming smile, being the host of this world meeting. "Hello, my name is Ren Honda. I hope your flight was alright?" Relief came from Kiku, while resentment filled Ren. He could be polite when her wanted to, thank you very much! No matter how few and far between those moments were.

The new personification of Germany nodded. "Hello, my name is Luka Beilschmidt. And it was very comfortable, thank you." He replied, his voice almost coldly polite.

Ren's lips turned down in the beginning of a scowl at this. After all his work at being kind and welcoming he didn't even get a smile?! He was about to voice these thoughts when Ludwig spoke.

_No! Please don't yell at him! He's just... slow to trust people! Please, be kind to him. _His 'voice' was laced with worry for his 'son' that made Ren keep from voicing his thoughts.

He held back a sigh as he plastered on another smile. "Glad to hear it. I hope your stay here is just as comfortable." Ren surprised himself by actually meaning it. For a reason unbeknownst to him, he was already starting to like this closed off personification.

"Oi! A familiar voice that Ren had never heard before sounded. "Everybody find a seat!"

Ren glanced to his right to see a silver haired, red eyed man that he only recognized because of Kiku's memories. Gilbert was his name. The personification of Prussia. Despite the fact that it was no longer a country, he still had the body of a personification, meaning he still could live forever as long as something didn't kill him.

Everyone slowly found a chair around the long table in the center of the room. Ren ended up between a really young blonde girl who looked to be about thirteen and a scowling teen that looked around eighteen. He looked over at the albino who looked straight at him.

"Japan right?" Ren nodded slowly. "Stand up and introduce yourself to the rest of the world." Well, talk about pressure.


	3. Introductions: Who's who?

**A/N Okay, so there was a review last time that reminded me I forgot to write something at the end of the last chapter. I _know _Poland's a guy, but Filip doesn't because I thought it would be funnier this way... Hope that clears things up. Plus, all last names were found in the Hetalia Archives, so I'm sorry if you don't think they are correct. I looked them up. Also, I gave Seychelles the same name as France, cause I had nothing else to give her and I gave Vietnam a random name. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's it.**

**Tokyo, Japan **

Gilbert watched as the brown haired Asian nation struggled under the gaze of the whole world. He had purposely put him on the stand. If he couldn't handle the pressure of a watchful crowd than he really could be here.

But, the personification of Japan just stoop up and bowed low. "Konnichiwa. My name is Ren Honda. Welcome to Japan." He sat down and appeared to glare over his right shoulder, as if someone Gilbert couldn't see stood there.

Gilbert couldn't help a small smile, before he focused back on the meeting. "Okay, I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt, the personification of Prussia. Now, when I call your country's name please stand up and introduce yourself." He looked down at the list of all the countries (It's not like he memorized all of them!) and chose the first one his gaze settled on. "England."

Gilbert raised his gaze to the group of countries in front of him, subconsciously looking for a blonde Englishman with green eyes. The man who stood up was brunette with azure eyes and glasses. He was pale though, just like his 'father'. Some things, he decided, never changed. He looked really nervous to be facing the whole world, and cringed when everyone turned to look at him. "Er, hi. I'm Oliver Kirkland. Pleased to meet you, I guess." Once he finished, he plopped back down in his chair, fidgeting nervously.

Gilbert was confused until he remembered that the last conference was held in London. _'He must think it's his fault...' _Pity filled Gilbert.

"United States of America."

The American that stood up had ebony hair instead of straw and eyes the color of tree bark. He shifted uncomfortably under everyone's gaze, but still managed to look somewhat confident. "Hey, my name's John Jones." He sat back down, though before he did Gilbert could've sworn he gave Oliver a wistful look. Like he wanted to sit next to him or something. Some things _really _don't change.

"Lichtenstein."

From next to Japan, a scowling brunette stood up. He crossed his arms over his chest, half covering a white shirt and navy tie. "Alec Vogel. Fuck you all." With that said, he sat down while everyone else were stunned into silence. Gilbert just smiled in amusement. _'So, we have another Romano in this group.' _

_'Moving on.'_ "Switzerland."

A young man, maybe twenty two in appearance stood up. He had long dark brown hair with hazel eyes. "My name's Nico Zwingli. It's a pleasure to meet you all." He didn't appear to be lying either...

_'Odd, but oh well.'_ "Iceland."

A girl with short brown hair jumped up, while trying not to disturb the lamb that lay beside her seat. "M-my name is Katrin Eriksdóttir." She said quietly, still trying not to awaken the baby sheep. She sat down without saying anything else.

_'How did she even get it inside...?' _"Okay... Greece."

A young teen (Seriously, why was everyone so young looking?) with nearly black hair and dark green eyes stood up. She had a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and held a cat in her arms. Well, we've already mentioned that some things don't change. "A-ah, hello." She said, smiling nervously. "My name is Aikaterine Karpusi." She sat down, hiding her face into the kitten's flank.

_'I wonder if it's like a law in Greece to carry around cats.' _"Poland." Gilbert cringed, waiting to hear a long line of 'like, totally's. It didn't come.

What _did _come was a serious, "Filip Łukasiewicz." Gilbert's eyes widened as he turned to look at the obviously masculine man with short blonde hair and brown eyes. He nodded once, before sitting back down.

_'Alright, that's a _huge _change.' _"Russia." He shivered after saying the name. Even after so many years, he would not forget the time he worked under Russia...

A small teen stood up, the same scarf that Ivan had worn wrapped around his neck (though it brushed the ground when he stood). He had white-ish hair with crystal blue eyes. The scarf covered his jaw, mouth and ended just under his nose. He tugged it down so his voice would not be muffled while he spoke something in Russian that Gilbert just barely remembered being a form of greeting. "My name is Dmitry Braginski." He sat back down, pulling the scarf over his mouth again, appearing to hide behind it.

Gilbert stared at him, his mood even worse than it had been to start, and that's saying something. "Um... Ukraine."

A pretty looking woman stood up. She had beautiful vibrant blue eyes and dark -nearly black- hair which she tied back in a ponytail. Her skin was fairly pale, though held a hint of a tan. She stretched when she stood up, loosening her swore limbs. Gilbert tried to avoid looking at her bust, but well, it's hard not to sometimes. Her breast were not as large as her mother's had been. "I'm Mariya Bragniski."She finally said, nodding her head to everyone before sitting back in her chair.

"Finland."

"I'm Aleski Väinämöinen." A young brown haired blue eyed man stated, standing up. He wore a large coat that went past his knees and long pants. Not really the most formal for a time like this, but Gilbert really wasn't too formal either.

"Seychelles." There was a pause. "Seychelles?" Everyone looked around, but all their gazes ended up on a girl's head. All they could see was a thick head of black hair. She was slumped over the table and appeared to be sleeping. The girl that sat next to her -one of the Italian twins- gently shook her shoulder, though she still startled awake.

"Huh? What?"

Gilbert let out an exasperated snort. "Seychelles I assume?"

The girl blushed, her already tanned cheeks turning rosy and her dark brown eyes wide with distress. "Y-yes. My names Eliana Bonnefoy." She pulled nervously at her white blouse, obviously embarrassed.

Gilbert rolled his eyes, feeling a lot like his brother. "Okay. China."

An obviously Asian woman with shoulder length hair and dark brown eyes. "Lian Wang. It's a pleasure." Her voice was laced with sarcasm that had everyone staring at her. She sat down, her arms crossed bitterly.

Gilbert narrowed his eyes at her, before moving on. "Belgium."

A guy with short brown hair spiked up and pale blue eyes was Belgium's son. "Call me Noah." He said, not offering a last name, making Gilbert raise an eyebrow. Though, he still didn't try. Well, didn't try to give a last name. He _did _try the girl next to him. "_You _can call me Tonight~" She just glared.

"Denmark."

The aforementioned girl with long blonde hair and dark blue eyes stood up and grinned. "Isabella Densen." She announced, her voice and volume similar to the original Denmark's.

"Norway."

A pale, platinum blonde haired teen stood up and saluted the whole world. "Emil Thomassen. Thank you for having me here." He said directing the sentence at Ren, who just shrugged.

"Sweden."

A girl with flaming red hair and dark green eyes stood up. "Hello, my name is Elsa Oxenstierna. It's great to meet you all." She bit her lip as if trying not to speak anymore. She sat down quickly.

"Latvia."

The taller Latvian had wicked light brown hair and average blue eyes. "I'm Markuss Galante." He said with a winning smile.

"Estonia."

Another Baltic man stood up with dirty blonde hair and nearly black eyes blocked by rimless glasses. "Hello all," He said kinda nervously, "I'm Viktor von Bock."

"Lithuania."

He had similar hair length as his 'father', but a much much darker color. And his eyes were a warm ocean blue. "My name is Matas Laurinaitis." He said, his voice soft, then he sat down.

"Canadia?" It came out a question.

A dirty blonde haired girl with gray-blue eyes jumped to her feet. "Abigail Williams, and it's Canada asshole!" She growled out, glaring over at Gilbert shocking him. Okay, well she was diffidently not like the previous Canada.

"O-okay." Gilbert looked down at the list, pain sharp in his chest. The rest of the names were going to be the most painful. "France."

An auburn haired Frenchwoman with brown eyes stood up and smiled widely. "I am Cholé Bonnefoy~"

"Both Italys." He said, his tone rising a tiny bit. Italy's cute face flashed across his mind. Romano cursing him out did too. God, this was painful.

The Italian Twins -one male and one female- stood up at the exact same time. The younger one, the girl, spoke first. "Hello~ My name is Rosa Vargas! It's so nice to meet all of you~" She had chocolate brown hair that shined in the light. She smiled just as cutely as Feli always did. Her brother, blonde hair hazel eyed, grinned. "Angelo Vargas, it's nice to see my sister so cute~" Cue sibling argument over Rosa being cute. This would've never happened between the previous twins.

Gilbert shook his head, before he moved on again. "Spain."

"Huh?" A feminine, Spanish accented voice spoke up. The dark haired curvy Spaniard looked up from wherever she had been staring and blushed. "Er, Sofia Fernández Carriedo. Hi." She said awkwardly.

Gilbert didn't feel like laughing like he might've had had this not been so painful. "Hungary."

The youngest looking girl of all stood up. She had long light blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. Her cheeks were round and really cute. "I'm Katalin Héderváry." She said, her voice high-pitched and young-ish. She was so different from Lizzy, it was almost laughable.

"G-Germany." He stumbled over the name a bit at the sharp pain in his chest.

He had actually met Luka before the meeting, but it still hurt a little bit to watch him stand up and turn to look straight at him. He missed his brother terribly. "Luka Beilschmidt. Hello." Ouch, ouch, ouch. Pain.

But the worst had yet to come. "Vietnam."

An older teen with light brown hair and golden eyes stood up. "Thanh Ha Tôn. It's a pleasure." A wave of pure hatred towards the girl over took Gilbert and when she caught his gaze, he was sure she could see it. Shock and hurt mixed in her gaze as she sat back down.

He felt guilty instantly, the hatred trampled to the ground. He wasn't being rational. Oh screw it, when was he ever rational? He tore his gaze away from her's and turned to face the rest of the group. "Alright, now that that's over I'll explain what I'm doing here. Such a huge death list for the countries has only happened once before and that was when all y'all parents were born. Anyway, I'm the only one here who was a country so I know how things work. I'll be your mentor of a sort."

A hand went straight up in the air, bringing Gilbert's gaze to Oliver's face. He nodded to tell the Englishman to go. "Sorry, I just wanted to know, when exactly are we going to start looking for the sons of bitches that killed our parents?"

_**Ooo~! Exciting~ What's going to happen next I wonder~? Anyway, thanks for reading blah blah blah review yada yada yada cool whip. ANYWAYS, if you have any questions or anything please review and I'll answer them the moment I can. Yes, this chapter was a pain in the ass to write and YES it was just introductions but, well we're getting to the main story so please hold tight. I love you all~**_

_**Kiwi \(*0*)/**_


	4. Let's Go Hunting

_**I know that Emil is Iceland's previous name! I KNOW! Alright, God! I'm just too lazy to change it, and I don't feel like doing it so you guys can deal! He probably won't even come up in this story that often so it's not like it matters anyway! Just stop telling me about it!**_

_**Okay, I'm done with my rant. On to the story!**_

**Tokyo, Japan**(I hope to god this is the last chapter in Tokyo... It's annoying writing it every time...)

Oliver's face flushed as everyone turned their gazes towards him. He had been surprised when nobody had started yelling at him when he had introduced himself. He was still waiting for the hatred, but the gazes that came to his face were merely curious and determined. Personification's voice's around the table rose in agreement.

"Yeah!"

"We need to catch these bastards!"

Oliver couldn't help but feel relieved. Maybe these people didn't blame him. The relieved feeling left him as another thought was born in his mind. '_They're wrong though._' Oliver gazed at the mahogany table in front of him as he felt the same dull throbbing come from the burn over his heart. What most of the other countries didn't know was that the fire had spread through London, burning a whole block and wounding more than a few of his people. They were all still recovering. He wanted the people responsible put away for the rest of their lives.

But he wasn't the only one that wanted that. He could see a fire in everyone's eyes. Their country's hero had been killed. Everyone felt their parents fear when they found the bomb, they felt the intense heat of the explosion. _Everyone _wanted to catch the bastards responsible.

The personification of Prussia fixed Oliver with his ruby eyes, pinning him in place by their intensity. Gilbert wore an emotionless mask, but Oliver could sense a hidden pain from him. Every single personification that had died, he had known his entire life. One had even been his brother. There was no way he wasn't crushed by this. He might've even wanted to catch these guys more than Oliver did.

Gilbert blinked once, before saying, "Whaddya got?"

Oliver couldn't help a slight grin as he grabbed the file and stood up. Pushing his glasses further up his nose, he started to read. Before he even finished his second sentence, the grin dropped off. Reading the report on his parent's death brought back the memory full force. Just like in the few moments before Oliver was 'born' the memory was so strong it pulled him from reality, forcing him to literally walk in Arthur's shoes.

_I paused outside the Roseann, hoping to calm my raging nerves. The back of my neck prickled uncomfortably and my heart beat at a panicked pace without any reason as to why. I could already tell something wasn't right._

_I tried to push away the feeling to the back of my mind as I unlocked the door. It didn't work._

_"Oi, West!" The sudden voice coupled with my __anxiety made me jump and accidently drop the keys. Turning around slowly, I saw Germany and his older brother -Prussia, right?- talking. They were close enough so that I could see their faces and the expressions displayed on them. Germany appeared to be more than a little frazzled, while Prussia's face mirrored my own anxiety._

_"What is it, bruder?" Germany asked, a sigh threatening to be released from his lips. "Why did you follow me all the way here? You know you can't come inside anymore." It was obvious how much this pained the German. After all, he was the one that took over Prussia's land and watched over his people now. I really couldn't blame him for feeling guilty. _

_For once, Prussia appeared to be completely serious. I tried to think of the last time I'd seen him like this, seen him without that shit-eating grin he always seemed to wear. It must've been before his country dissolved, when he actually had something to be serious about. "C'mon, West! Please don't go to this meeting!" If nothing else, this sure as hell brought my full attention to the their conversation. Was it possible that this man felt the same nervousness that I suffered from? "Let's just go get a pint instead!"_

_Germany shook his head, though his yearning to leave with his brother was obvious. Even before the meeting had actually started I could tell from the set of his shoulder's that he was wary. Sometimes, being a country was very tiring indeed. It probably would've been good for him to go for a drink -I might've been helping the albino convince him even- had it not been pertinent to everyone's health that he attended every meeting. "If I don't go everyone's going to kill each other. You know how they are. Nothing will get done."_

_"Nothing gets done anyway!" A hint of desperation leaked into the Prussian's voice. "Please, just don't go." He was practically begging now. Whatever 'awesome' pride he always carried around was thrown away at this moment of venerability and fear. It was certain now that he felt the same way as I. I just wasn't sure what that meant._

_Germany was either deaf to his desperation or just chose to ignore. He shook his head once more. When he spoke, his voice was stern and commanding, the voice of a respected man and not someone's younger brother. "You are being ridiculous Prussia! I am _going _to this meeting." He face then softened, as did his voice. "You can wait out here though, if you still want to get a drink together afterwards."_

_Prussia gave his brother a sour look, appearing to give up. Even from where I stood I could see the defeat in his eyes, making itself at home beside the fear and concern. He muttered something under his breath, too quiet for me to hear. Germany heard though and let out an exasperated sound that I _could _hear. "Stop being paranoid, Gilbert. I'll see you after the meeting."_

_The blonde then turned around and headed towards me. More accurately the door I still stood in front of. Quickly snatching up my fallen keys, I stepped out of Germany's way. Instead of following him inside right away, I paused and let myself watch as Prussia stalked over to a bench and sat down on it, crossing his arms over his chest. As his annoyance faded, a foreboding look did everything but soothe my nerves.  
_

_Finally tearing my gaze away, I entered the building after Germany. The floor plan of the Roseann was engraved in my brain because of its common use. It was easy to focus on my thoughts and not have to worry about getting lost. Germany was right. We were just being paranoid, that's all. It was probably from the dismal gray weather that was affecting my rational mind. Or perhaps I have just watched too many of America's movies. Either way, there was really no substance to my paranoia. Nothing was going to happen today._

_By the time I reached the main room, Germany was already starting to set up for the meeting. I felt a twinge of guilt that I was too late to help; he was just setting down the meeting notes at the places around the table. Surely not a job for two. The guilty feeling did not last, for a distraction soon became present in the form of a loud bang from the front of the Roseann._

_There was no confusion as to what it could be._

_A wry smile came to my face. "Sounds like America's here." Such a simple utterance of his name caused my heart to flutter like a caged bird. Well, they didn't call it a rib_cage _for nothing... I shook my head fiercely, my smile disappearing. 'Dammit! I have to stop feeling this way about America! I raised him, goddammit!'_

_Just then, said American waltzed into the room, a huge grin splitting his handsome face. "Hey, Iggy!" He looked so goddamn cute when he grinned even wider and waved at me. I felt my face heat up and not from the anger at the nickname like I could only pray he interpreted it as._

_"Shut up, you bloody idiot!" I yelled. As always, I hid my true emotions and insecurities behind my anger. I was becoming more like Romano every day... It wouldn't be surprising if he hated me from all the verbal abuse._

_"Ohonhonhon~" That twisted laugh reached my ears from the entrance of the room. "Mon ami, that is not the way you speak to the one you love~" Who else could it be, but -as Romano called him- the wine-drinking pervy bastard? No one else would dare get on my bad side for fear of my spells._

_I barely registered the fact that Germany left the room for less than a second__ later and we were at each other's throats, literally. My breathing was labored and my words were distorted as I growled, "Take that back, you bloody frog!" Just as I knew it would, a fire sparked in France's blue gaze, lit by the nickname he hated most in the world. 'Frog'._

_"Bloody this, bloody that!" He practically snarled back. "Didn't that precious queen of yours teach you a larger vocabulary?!" We really knew each other too well, spent too much time with each other. He knew exactly how to get me practically steaming from the ears._

_"Don't you _dare _insult the queen, you perverted frog!" My shout was quieter than I wished it, due to the choking hands around my throat. The harder he pressed, the harder it was for my to raise my voice to the volume I wanted it to be at._

_"Yo, Germany! Who were you yelling at?" Of course I would always be able to hear America's voice over the frog's yelling. Even if he spoke normally, I was certain that I could've heard him with music blasting my ears just like it used to be..._

_I broke away from the fight, shoving France away from me. One glance at America -for he always came first in my mind- then I turned my gaze to the man he had spoken to. Germany appeared rather irritated from whatever encounter America had overheard._

_"Just some delivery boy. Apparently someone sent us a package. I told him to leave it by the door so we can check on it later." I felt sympathy for the poor soul that had to face Germany. He could be rather intimidating when he was irritated. Hell, he was intimidating all the time to those who didn't know him well._

_America nodded in response to Germany's words. "Sounds good."_

_There was a sudden racket at the front of the building. Out of my view, voices traveled easily over the tile flooring. It appeared to be an argument, something easily recognized due to the many disagreements held within these walls. The words could not be heard though, nor could I place a name to the voices from this distance. I was too far away._

_I couldn't hold back a groan as I took in America's and Germany's grimaces. "I've got it." Neither protested and I suspected they were both glad it wasn't them. Hell, if _I _were them I would be glad too. Arguments between normal people were difficult to break up, between nearly immortal countries it was downright impossible._

_With long strides, I made my way to the front of the Roseann. The hallway was long, but due to my fast pace I reached the end of it quickly. The voices grew louder, but I wasn't sure if it was because the argument was heating up or because of the shrinking distance between us. Suddenly, a voice shouted out- _

"Oliver?"

Oliver blinked a few times, his eyelids fluttering, feeling as though he had just been woken up from a deep sleep. Disorientation filled him as he gazed around the room at all the world. Some faces held concern. Other's -namely Alec- held annoyance and impatience.

Oliver must've looked like an absolute fool in front of the entire world. He wasn't sure if it was possible to be any more embarrassed than he was at that moment. Shame colored his face along with his shy blush. "A-ah, I'm terribly sorry!" He muttered, ducking his head under the weight of everyone's stare.

The youngest looking personification -Katalin, the personification of Hungary- gave him a concerned look, the most sincere and whole-hearted one he had received. "Are you okay?" Her voice was high and girly, only making her appear younger than he already thought. "Were you thinking about...?" She trailed off, her gentle blue eyes filling with tears. She brushed the moisture away while still looking at Oliver kindly. Oliver felt _another _stab of guilt pierce him. Like he needed anymore.

He looked down at the table, his face heating to a nearly burning temperature. "I'm fine." He whispered, his voice hoarse as if he hadn't used it for many days. "It just surprised me."

There were nods from the group and after a few seconds Oliver remembered the report. Clearing his throat, he finished up the report out loud. When it was finished, he dropped back down onto his chair and continued to blush furiously, still affected by his blunder.

The room was silent, processing what they had just heard. Oliver saw tears in the more... fragile personifications' eyes, including Hungary. She was so young and naive looking that the tears didn't seem out of place. On some of the other countries, they didn't have the same luck. Oliver noticed with a shock that a tear slid down his cheek. Hastily, he wiped it away.

A shaggy haired blonde -Luka?- was the first to speak. His brown eyes shined with determination and excitement as he spoke. "I say we go talk to the delivery boy."

"Dumbass!" A voice rose up. Oliver didn't need to look up to know who was talking. Alec Vogel. "You want us to go mob a high school kid? He'll be scared shitless!" Not that that wouldn't be entertaining... Oliver mused, smiling lightly.

"What do you think we should do then?" Ren asked, his eyes narrowing with irritation. An abrupt change from hospitable host. Frankly, it was nicer to know the real Ren and not the person he felt he should be.

There was another silence as the group thought.

Angelo spoke up after a few more moments of quiet thoughtfulness. "How about we send a few of us around his age and ask him about it?"

"Sure!"

"Why not?"

"Sounds great!"

Everyone turned to face the head of the table where Prussia sat with a thoughtful look. Oliver wondered what he was thinking about. Finally, he raised his gaze to meet everyone else's. "Who should go then?" He spoke for the first time since Oliver had started reading the report.

A chorus of, "I'll go!" followed his words, all with varying accents. Five hands shot into the air. Luka, Rosa, Angelo, Eliana, and Abigail all volunteered to go talk to the kid. Two were grinning, two were smiling excitedly, and one was expressionless.

Five didn't seem like a bad number, and none of the guys were really intimidating so it seemed alright. The only problem was, "Hey, Abigail. You're not going to yell at him or anything?" Oliver asked the grinning girl.

Her grin dropped off and she shot him a sour look. "No! Of course not! Unless he deserves it..."

Prussia shook his head and Oliver turned to look at him. "Fine. You five go. We'll... think of something to discuss while you're gone..." He didn't appear too happy about it, that was Oliver's impression at least.

The group of teens stood up, nodded and then headed out of the room as fast as they could. Abigail actually ran ahead with a bounce in her step. 'Maybe she's bipolar?' Oliver wondered briefly.

Once they left, all gazes returned to Gilbert's face. It appeared that he was thinking.

Suddenly, a voice broke the previously established silence. "So, why aren't we calling each other by our country's name like our parents did?"

Gilbert visibly flinched and Oliver noticed a thick cloud of misery in his eyes. "Umm..."

_**Okay, the next chapter -thank god- is going to be in London and after that we aren't going back to Tokyo. Ever. **_

_**Maybe.**_

_**Thank you for reading! I love you all so much! Please review! Please? C'mon you gotta admit it's at least a interesting concept!**_

_**Kiwi\(*0*)/**_


	5. Cafe Confessions

_**Yay! No school! I hope to get at least two chapters out this week! I've been to London, I've been to France I can see you're underpants~**_

**London, England**

"That was... fun?" Eliana murmured to Abigail, looking slightly awkward and uncertain. She was obviously trying to be quiet but her soprano voice was heard easily above the pounding rain outside the cafe they were holed up in.

Eliana was wrong. The plane ride had _not _been fun. Then again, the African island had been asleep the whole time, unlike Rosa who had been painfully awake. One thing was certain, Rosa had a fear of flying. Well, a fear of falling actually. Into the ocean. And dying.

It didn't help, either, that the stupid German boy had been on the plane with her. The whole time she was tensed and sour faced, disliking the seating arrangements very much. He sat straight in front of her. Well, even if he had sat at the very back of the plane she still would've been unhappy. Why did he have to volunteer for this mission too?! It was supposed to be fun and exciting! But really, it was tense and awkward.

Neither spoke much, though Rosa listened as her brother chatted with the other two girls on the plane. They spoke mostly of their newly acquainted bosses. It appeared that Abigail had a rather laid back boss, but Eliana hadn't met her's yet. He was apparently very sick.

"Rosa?" The northern Italian girl stiffened at her name accompanied with a German accent. She turned around with slow reluctance and faced Luka. Her gaze met dark brown eyes, edged with hurt. She refused to dwell on that, least her feelings for him might softened. "Is there a reason why you were glaring at me the whole flight here?"

A hand landed on Rosa's shoulder and she didn't need to look up to know that it was Angelo. A silent warning came from him, but she chose to ignore it.

"Why do you think?! It's because of your dad that Feli is dead! If he hadn't stayed behind because a stupid illusion to save your dad, he could still be alive right now!" She forced herself to keep her voice low, though she yearned to scream at him. That would be cause for concern from everyone else in the small cafe.

The memory of her father's death was thick in her mind.

_"What's the matter with you?!"_

_I blinked in surprise, one foot over the threshold of the Roseann and one foot out. In front of me was a scene that was so unusual that it had me frozen in place. Fratello and Big Brother Spain were standing right in front of me, _glaring _at each other. Most surprising of all, it hadn't been fratello's voice I had heard, it had been Spain's._

_Fratello yelled at Big Brother Spain often, but Spain rarely ever argued back. He usually just smiled at him and called him cute. So, it was a big surprise when I realized that it was Spain that was shouting._

_Of course that didn't mean that fratello wasn't yelling back. "What's wrong with me?! What's wrong with _you_?! I'm not the one who's getting all bent outta shape because of a stupi-"_

_"It's not stupid!" Spain shouted, cutting off whatever he'd been saying. He looked so scary just then, like he could've actually killed someone. I found myself cringing away from him. If I didn't do something soon... something bad was going to happen._

_"Fratello! Big Brother Spain! Stop fighting, please!" I cried suddenly, shocking myself with the volume of my words. I launched myself between the two, keeping them apart with my body. "You shouldn't yell at each other like this!" When had I started crying? I couldn't remember even starting._

_When I had pushed them apart, I had ended up facing Romano. My fratello's normally angry face was furious. Even _he _looked scary just then. "Shut up, fratellino!" He snapped at me, shooting me such a scary glare that I cringed away from him, back towards Spain. _

_Spain grabbed my arm to pull me behind his back, hiding me with his tall frame. "Don't talk to your brother like that, Romano!"_

_I struggled against Spain's arm, which was like steel melded to my skin. "No! Stop! Don't fight anymore, please!"_

_"Alright, alright! Break it up!" A familiar voice called out, making all our heads turn to look at England, who -in any other situation- would've frightened me. He had his hands raised, palms facing us, in a calming gesture. "Just calm down, please?" He smiled hesitantly at us, the expression soothing whatever leftover fear I still held for him. At that moment, he was simply a peacemaker._

_Romano was the first to be calmed by the Englishman's words. His shoulders sagged suddenly and he shot Spain such a pained look I felt a stab to my own heart. Whatever had happened between them had crushed a small part of fratello. He ran from the room, past Arthur and headed either towards the meeting room, or some other room to hide in. I finally managed to tear my arm away from Spain's and took a few steps after him. I thought I heard a sob travel back to me._

_'Fratello...' _

Rosa sucked in a quick breath and shook her head sharply. Concern trickled into her from her brother, but she brushed it away, instead focused on the tears falling from her eyes. Wiping them away, she thought of her weakness. She couldn't handle remembering, and it hadn't even gotten to the most painful part. She tore herself away from her brother and chocked out, "I'll go order us something to drink."

The lady at the counter was very kind, she even gave Rosa a discount. She assumed that Rosa was upset about Arthur. She was wrong, but it was nice to have concern come from someone other than her brother. Rosa made sure to give her a tip.

She dreaded coming back to the circle of personifications, but knew she had to. With one last sniffle, she turned around and walked calmly back to the table. She was met with three smiles and one guarded look. She wasn't sure what Luka thought, nor did she really care.

"Ugh! I hate rain!" Abigail exclaimed randomly, glaring out the window. "Stupid England and its stupid rain! We have this thing called 'snow' that's so much less depressing!" Rosa couldn't help but stare at her in fascination. She was, Rosa concluded, one strange creature.

"We can't possibly find Delivery Boy (when had that become an actual name?) in this weather." Eliana muttered. She didn't appear to be as bothered by the rain as Abigail, then again she was an island nation. She probably had monsoons and all that. "We should probably find a hotel to hole up for the night."

Luka let out a sigh. "Yes, I suppose you're right. Should we leave now?"

"I don't mind leaving. This place is so gloomy." The young Canadian complained.

"Sure. Let's go somewhere really fancy." Angelo agreed, and Rosa could practically see the gears turning in his head, looking for an awesome prank to pull. Sometimes, she wished she was an only child.

"Fine." She muttered, diverting her gaze and pouting slightly. She had been called cute way too often in this exact pose.

"Mmmm, sleep." Eliana murmured. Really, that girl appeared to sleep most of the day. She reminded Rosa of her father's memory of Greece.

With this agreed, Rosa stood up and tossed her empty plastic cup into the trash. Pausing outside the door, she couldn't help a rueful smile. At that moment, she would've killed for a umbrella. Pushing the door opened, she walked out into the pouring rain.

-Skippy-

Water was dripping from every part of her body by the time they reached a decent hotel. Rosa felt the last of her good mood -wasn't much left, honestly- drip away with the water. She was cold and wet and she just wanted to go back to Italy where she could sleep halfway through the day and eat pasta as much as she wanted.

Angelo was feeling similarly, walking in with a rare scowl that fit on the face of his father. It made his usually impish face look much older. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes had died and Rosa felt a trickle of bitterness from him.

Abigail was probably the only one with any energy left, which surprised Rosa for she had been the first to complain about the shower. Still, she practically skipped up to the desk and asked for two rooms. One for the guys, one for the girls.

When Rosa reached room 232, the first thing she did was drop face first onto the bed and lay there, not moving any muscles that were unnecessary to survive. She stayed like that until the wet clothes became too uncomfortable and she had to change into her night clothes which consisted of a tanktop and pink pajama bottoms.

The other girls changed too and they all crawled into their separate beds -except Abigail, who got the couch. Murmurs of "'Night." Rose from the girls, before they all drifted off to sleep.

**This chapter was rather short, and I apologize. Still, you got a little bit further into the memory, didn't ya? And you at least liked _it, right? Right?_**

**_Anyway, please review! I know I ask this every time, but it really does help motivate me! So, please?_**


	6. Late Night Conversations

_**Yeah, sorry for the long wait for those of you who have been waiting. I've been having an ugly case of school and writer's block, so it sucked ass. Anyway, I hope you like Luka's perspective cus he kinda rocks in my mind.**_

**London, England **

On the other side of the wall, the males of the group were dressing down.

Angelo, the ever chatty apparently, seemed to decide that the silence had gone on for far too long. So, while tugging off his soaked through shirt, he said, "My sister hates you, you know?" He spoke with such a casual tone, that it struck Luka almost as much as the Italian's words.

Luka wasn't stupid. Of course he had noticed the glares, the hostility and, well, the practical confession of hatred. He knew that the Italian girl despised him more than seemed reasonable. But when the words were said aloud, the affirmation reaching his ears, it sent a flash of indignation down his spine. That had been the previous Germany, not him! So why was he getting punished for it?!

Realizing that he should be responding to the Italian's question, Luka let out a sigh from deep in his chest. It gushed from his lips, bringing the gaze of the blonde towards him. "It's pretty obvious." Luka cursed himself for the bitter note to his voice. He sounded like a whiny little kid.

A laugh came from the other side of the room. Luka didn't bother looking up, but if he had he knew that he would've seen Angelo's grinning face. In the short time that they had been together, Luka learned that Angelo had an odd sense of humor. He was also clever, sly, and mischievous. A bad combination in the German's mind. "That's true. Sis pretty much sucks at hiding her emotions. Especially from me." Luka could sensed a double meaning to his words, but couldn't guess what.

By then, Luka was already dressed for bed and pretty much dead tired. He went to go brush his teeth but was stopped by more words from the Italian. "What do _you _think of Rosa?" Normally, this wouldn't have stopped him, but Angelo wasn't using his normal voice. When he spoke, the words that came out of his mouth held not only the thick Italian accent but also an edge of steel. For once, Luka could tell that Angelo was completely serious._  
_

Slowly, Luka turned to face Angelo and allowed him an honest answer. "I feel it is unfair of her to hate me in such a way, but I also wish to be her friend. I fear that is impossible." Honesty sometimes came hard for the German. Plus, he barely knew the boy. Could he really trust him with the truth, no matter how innocent seeming?

Angelo's face stayed serious as he processed the other blonde's words. Luka wished he could read his mind, to know what he thought, to know what he planned to do with the information given. Unfortunately, he had no such gift.

Finally, the teen spoke. "I fear so too." With that said, he walked over to the bed and laid down, his back to Luka. Clearly, he intended to kill the conversation, even though Luka had many more questions.

With a sigh, he decided it could wait and went to brush his teeth.

Two minutes later, with his hand hovering above the light switch, Luka asked. "Where were you when you... woke up?"

For a minute, Luka feared that the teen had already fallen asleep, but then Angelo rolled over to face him. The grin was back on his face, putting the German to ease. "Why do you want to know?"

Luka flushed, embarrassment filling him at his boldness. This was really none of his business. "I-I was just curious but if it offends you, you have no obligation to answer."

Angelo laughed again, a loud, bursting laugh that filled the whole room. Luka had a feeling that the girls on the other side of the wall would be able to hear it. "Nah, it's fine. It just seemed out of character for you to ask something like that. You're much too... polite." When he spoke the word, he made it sound as if it was a bad thing, which Luka could not comprehend. Being polite was safest.

The Italian paused, as if for dramatic effect, before beginning his story. "I woke up next to Rosa in some sort of dark room, very small. If I stretched out, my hands would touch one wall, while my feet the other. It was too dark to see the ceiling but I could tell it was close by." As he spoke, his eyes seemed to gain a mistiness to them, as if he was somewhere far away. Probably the room he described. "I woke up before Rosa did. The disorientation was terrible, as I'm sure you know." Angelo shot Luka a lopsided grin.

Luka could only nod. Of course he wouldn't be able to forget that part. Coming into this world had been painful, disorienting, and strength consuming. Right before he came to be, he had been plunged straight into his father's memories, living them as his own, feeling everything Ludwig felt. He died before he even lived. Then, he opened his eyes and found himself in a field under the stars. The reflection in the pool next to him had not seemed like his own. Surely he had slicked back hair and blue eyes just like Ludwig had. But no, he had tangled blonde hair and brown eyes and his name was Luka.

"Anyway," The teen continued, interrupting Luka's thoughts. "after I realized I was Angelo and Lovino was gone, Rosa woke up in a screaming crying fit. I could barely see her in the dark, but I could literally feel the pain in her chest and felt tears prick at my own eyes. I panicked. Of course I'd never dealt with a crying girl, I'd barely been alive! I had no idea what to do." He let out a little laugh, seeming almost embarrassed. "On impulse, I grabbed her and pulled her into a hug, letting her cry on my shoulder. She was so warm and soft!

"After a while she stopped crying and managed to introduce herself. She was Rosa Vargas, North Italy." A fond smile came to the blonde's face making it look very handsome. It would be better if he smiled like this instead of smirking and grinning all the time, Luka thought to himself. "Turns out, she was my little sister and that we were all countries. Once we both introduced ourselves, we decided to see what was outside of the room. I could just barely see the crack under the door, leading me towards the exit of the room.

"Ironically, we were in the storage room of a pasta place in Rome. The manager wasn't really too happy to see us, though I'm sure he'd be more upset if we had come out without any clothing" He laughed, returning to the grin he always seemed to wear. "Of course after we told him that we were siblings he was more compliant to tell us where the Vargas' lived. Word hadn't reached them of their death yet so they were more... generous with their directions.

"So, we made our way to the house. Well, I guess _our _house now..." He let out a weak laugh, the first to be lacking in humor. "When we got there I'm sure Rosa's jaw hit the ground." This time, his laugh was a little bit more legitimate. "It was just so big! It was nice and open and gorgeous too!"

Luka chuckled at this. "You sound like a girl."

Angelo's eyes went wide, a blush dusting across his face. Then his face grew angry and even redder. "I-I do not! Take that back!"

"No." Luka didn't know why, but he found himself teasing his roommate-for-a-night. He wasn't really the kind of person that teased people like this, but there was something about Angelo's personality that made it sooooo easy. Then, Luka really acted out of character. "Make me~" He issued a challenge.

Angelo looked about ready to spring at the German, something that would probably lead to a childish wrestling match. All this was interrupted though by an insistent pounding on the hotel room's wall, followed by an irritated shout that could be heard through the wallpaper and such, "Shut up and go to sleep, idiots! You're too loud!" The owner of the voice -Abigail- was easily identified by her Canadian accent and annoyed tone.

The two teens covered their mouths with their hands, suppressing their laughter. Luka felt oddly encouraged by the laughter, almost... energized by it. This had been his first time laughing, which wasn't too surprising really. He hadn't spent much time in this world, nor had he had reason to laugh. With a beginning that seemed like the end and the pressure of all the grief of his people on his chest there just hadn't been humor in his life. Laughing felt good. It eased the stress of all of the aforementioned issues. Made them easier to deal with.

Luka was getting distracted. He had one last question to ask and if things continued to flow the way it did -glacial- he would never get to it. But, honestly? He was scared to ask. "Angelo...?" He asked, drawing out the name to gather his courage.

"Yeah?" Angelo's voice was getting sleepy. This was probably the last conversation they'd be able to have before he passed out. He was Italian after all.

"What did Romano and Spain argue about before they came into the meeting room?"

The moment the words had left Luka's mouth, horror washed over him. That was _not _what he had been planning to ask, not at _all_. That was probably the worst thing he could've asked! It had _nothing _to do with what he had previously wanted to know, plus it was really none of his business. Still, apparently the curiosity in him won out over the rationality.

Angelo didn't reply for a long time and when he did, his voice was hushed and... pained? "Go to sleep, Luka. It's going to be a long day tomorrow." With that said, he rolled over so that his back was to Luka and he was facing the single window in the small hotel room.

Luka silently cursed himself for his bluntness, before flopping onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. Angelo was right. Tomorrow would be long, tiring, and worst of all rainy.

_**Alright, that's all for now. Just a warning, I will probably write nothing more for this month. I'm writing a 50,000 word novel in a month and I can't update while doing that. I'm sorry, but it's true. Anyway, bye for now. **_

_**Kiwi\(*0*)/  
**_


	7. Back to Tokyo

_**Hey everyone~ I'm totally back! Isn't that awesome~? I finished my challenge and won! And thank God for that, I thought it would never end! Now I can be as lazy with my writing as I want~**_

_**Prepare for some awesome UsUk!**_

**Tokyo,**** Japan** (Ha, I lied~)

After the group of teens left, Ren had decided that it was time to break for lunch. Frankly, John couldn't have been happier. He just wanted out of there, away from all the watchful eyes. At least he hadn't needed to speak up yet, but what if he did?

John had a bad habit of eating when he was nervous, probably something passed down from his father. So, when lunch was called he ran to the nearest food-selling building and bought whatever sounded the best. John really didn't care what it was, he just sat in the corner of the little shop and munched on a muffin.

Unfortunately, it was one of those 'quaint' shops with the bell of the door that rings _every single time the door opens._ Then again, it gave John a warning for whenever someone came in.

When it rang for the third time in the past ten minutes, John's irritation was spiking. Soon, he was going to leave. But first-

"Oi. You're the personification of America." A voice, heavily accented, sounded right next to John and he jumped back in surprise. Before he could take in much of who stood beside him, the nation sat down across from him. "John, right?"

The man in front of John had light brown hair and glasses that reflected John's startled face back at him. It was the English accent that gave him away, and the fact that he held a cup of steaming tea -earl gray from the smell- in his right hand. John felt his face heat up, as was customary when someone was focusing on him. He really didn't know how to deal with attention.

Still, he tried to smile. This was the personification of England after all. He had promised to watch over him. "Yeah, John. And you're Oliver, the personification of Iggy."

The moment the words slipped from his mouth, John flushed even darker from horror and shame. He had just used Alfred's pet name for the previous Briton. Man, could he have done something a little more embarrassing?

But Oliver just seemed confused by the American's sudden flush. "Yes, that is indeed me. What are you doing here?"

Why couldn't any of the Briton's be a little more polite? Both seemed rather blunt.

Again, John attempted to smile while he slowly began to crush his muffin. "Well..." How was he supposed to say he had come to the remote cafe for the sole purpose of avoiding everyone? That would be rather rude of him. So, John lied. "I heard the muffin's are great. I mean, to hear something that isn't covered in fish be labeled as great here, you just gotta check it out, right?"John laughed then, a painful, awkward laugh that he thought sounded more like a hyena than himself.

To John's utmost relief, Oliver joined in. His laughter sounded more like a small boy's delighted laughter. It was actually quite nice and John found smiling just a bit easier than before. Something about this man had a soothing effect on the normally flustered American.

They stopped laughing and the silence that followed was broken only by those around them. And the occasional _ding _of that annoying bell.

When the silence lasted for more than a minute -something that would be impossible with the other American- John felt his cheeks grow warm once again and dropped his gaze down to his muffin. Through the curtain of black hair that had fallen into John's eyes he could see Oliver tilt his head to the side, as if confused by his actions.

"Are you okay?" Jeez, what was up with British accents? Why were they so _cute_?!

John looked up then and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

The brunette didn't appear to believe him, but Oliver let it go. He took a sip from his tea, while his lips curled around the edge of his cup. Some thought seemed to entertain him, but he didn't offer an explanation. John's curiosity piqued.

He asked, "What is it?"

Oliver blinked and pulled the glass away from his lips as if he didn't even realize he had been smiling. "What?"

The American held back a laugh and shook his head. Apparently, Oliver really hadn't realized he had been smiling. A smile of his own, came to John's face. He was actually pretty cute when he smiled. "Nothing, nevermind."

The Briton opened his mouth as if to protest, but then he closed it when another personification happened into the cafe to warn them that the meeting was starting again soon. It was the dark-haired Spanish woman, Sofia John remembered her name as.

The pretty young woman smiled shyly at them and nodded her head pleasantly. "Sorry to interrupt." Her voice held a thick Spanish accent and was rather quiet. A faint blush was on her cheeks, as if she was embarrassed for her interruption. Oliver just gave her a nod, hiding his irritation well. John had trouble not smiling as he waited for the Spaniard to continue. "There ready to start the meeting again. We're just waiting for you."

John felt his own face start to flush. He had kept them waiting. He stood up quickly. "Ah, I'm sorry! I'll head back right away."

Oliver, John noticed, was much more relaxed. He continued to stay seated and watched John carefully, as if he was a science project that he had to study well if he wanted to get an A. John wasn't quite sure he liked the way he was staring, but was too embarrassed already to do much about it.

He headed for the door, knowing that people were going to stare at him when he walked in and wising that he could just stay in here.

Now, Oliver stood up and followed John out of the door. Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Oliver's hand -the one closest to him- twitch as if the brunette wanted to reach out and hold his hand. With such a thought, John's face exploded with color and he scolded himself for reading too much into something. Of course he wouldn't want to hold his hand. They had only just met.

Unfortunately, Oliver noticed his blush. "Oi, are you okay? You're face is all red."

John felt like dying then, or at least walking into the room and having that distraction. But no, they were still a few blocks away. So, John searched for an excuse other than one as ridiculous as why he was blushing. "I'm just embarrassed that I made them all wait for me."

Oliver nodded in understanding and reached out his hand to pat John on the back. "Don't worry. It's not that big of a deal. I mean, America was bloody obnoxious with how late he was."

His words were meant to be comforting of course, but it just sent a sharp pain through John's chest. His smile dropped off as he realized what he had just said. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to..."

Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Oliver place a hand against his chest, his face looked pained. "Hey, are you okay?" John reached out for him, but lost courage and instead just waited for him to answer.

"I'm fine." He said, smiling even though he was obviously in pain.

He was saved then, by the two entering the meeting place. Everyone turned and looked at them, all with varying expressions. Alec's -as always- was one of annoyance. Katalin was simply childishly curious. Ren was staring off into space, the only one not looking.

John's face flooded with blood, while Oliver just gently pushed him inside. Somehow, even with such intense stares on them, Oliver managed to remain calm. It seemed so different from how he had acted when his name had been called. Back then, he had cringed away from everyone's gazes and flushed a bright red as if having them look at him was a physical pain.

The crazy albino stared them both down, his silver eyebrows pulled together at some thought that had entered his head. When he saw John looking at him, his expression hardened and his lips pressed in a thin line. John's heart sank. "Sit down and we'll start once again."

An image of a puppy with its tail between its leg entered John's mind as he made his way to his seat next to Oliver and Sofia settled down next to him. John turned his attention to the Prussian, but when he didn't speak at first, John's gaze drifted to the (*cough*gorgeous*cough*) Brit beside him. His glasses were slowly slipping down his nose, but he didn't notice. A smile reached the American's face and he was so tempted to push it up for him, just as Arthur had done so often to Alfred.

Ouch, way to think of the off-limits topic.

"Er, Mr. Prussia?" The little girl said, her voice quiet so that it was hard to catch. Still, Prussia turned to look at her along with the rest of the world. The little girl didn't seem all that affected, which filled John with shame.

"What is it, Katalin?" Something in the way he said it, made John squint at his face. Even with how hard he tried to hide it, pain was obvious in the clench of his jaw and the furrow of his brows. John felt a stab of pity for the near albino. He had been stuck outside while everyone he knew and love died. And then he was expected to mentor all of these countries? It was a lot to ask one person.

"What exactly do we do in a World Meeting?" It was a legitimate question that John had started to wonder himself.

Gilbert just stared for a few seconds, before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, muttering, "If it's anything like what it used to be, nothing." Then, he opened his eyes and began to explain in a voice loud enough to be heard.

Throughout his speech, John zoned in and out, his eyes traveling over everyone's faces. He noticed certain people sitting next to each other the correlated with his memories. The Russian was sitting next to the dark haired beauty, Ukrainian. Most of his face was buried in his -or Ivan's really- scarf while she just stood tall and paid rapt attention to Prussia's speech.

The Greek girl was sitting beside Ren, though he seemed to ignore her even though she kept shooting glances at him. Still, it wasn't the kind of attraction that the previous Greek had hidden, she seemed simply curious. It seemed that some countries, didn't suffer from the romance of their previous life's. John tried to trample his fast rising jealously.

Alec Vogel, the obnoxious Liechtensteiner, was sitting -rather unhappily- next to his 'big brother'. He ignored all of what the Prussian was saying and chose instead to glare at the man beside him with horribly contained hostility.

All of the Nordics sat together, though they all seemed rather awkward around each other. Katrin -the Icelander- was hugging her lamb with all her might and turned away from her companions. Aleski -the Finnish man with the long coat- simply stared directly ahead of him, his light blue eyes cold. The personification of Denmark was drinking from a mug that John could only hope was coffee. From the slight flush dusting her cheeks, he didn't think so. The Norwegian -John couldn't remember his name- stared at Prussia with as much attention as Ukrainian showed. Elsa appeared to be mumbling something to herself.

"And so, that's basically the whole idea behind it." Prussia wrapped up, interrupting John's survey of the room.

All those who were paying attention -including Oliver and Sofia- nodded their heads and accepted his words, while everyone else just watched with badly veiled boredom. John just wanted this day over with so that he could go back to America. Being around all these countries -Oliver included- was just bringing back painful memories. One memory to be precise.

_England was heading back with a very pissed looking Spain and an Italian who looked like he had just been crying and was seconds from doing it again. What held my attention the most was the strained look on England's face. Of course that's what worries me most, even with such extreme expressions on the other two. England always comes first, not matter the circumstances._

_Not that I could let him know that. If he figured that out, he'd figure everything else out._

_"Yo, Iggy!" I called, keeping up with my clueless facade that has slowly become my identity. "What's going on, dude?" Something about the way he turned to look at me, made the hamburgers in my stomach turn to rock._

_Before he could answer, Italy launched himself at Germany and buried his face into the taller man's chest as if he was hiding from whatever had happened. I heard a few sobs, but divert my gaze politely. Neither probably wanted an audience at that moment._

_Spain stomped over to France, seeking comfort in his friend. They got into a hushed conversation that I couldn't hear from where I stood._

_With the others watched over by someone, England made his way to my side and I watched as his shoulders sagged with the weight of whatever had just happened. He stopped a few inches away from me, nearly toe to toe and I stared with concern back at him. His head was bowed, blocking his face from my view._

_"Dude, are you okay?" I asked reaching out a hand for him, but I let it drop back to my side before I could touch him. I wanted it too badly, and that was dangerous._

_It was then that England lifted his head and I could see foreboding in his emerald eyes. "It's..." He began as if he was actually going to tell me something, but then he lost courage and instead said, "nothing. It's nothing." He added a little shrug as if he thought that would convince me._

_I could tell something was wrong, but knew that England was too stubborn to tell me anything. I opened my mouth to ask something else when I heard another shout from behind me. It was France shouting at Spain and calling him a lot of names that I could only guess translated to 'dumbass'. I turned to see what was going on and looked just in time to see France full on bitchslap Spain._

_"Bloody idiot..." England muttered under his breath and I shot him a sidelong glance, wondering what Spain could've done to earned such abuse._

_France sat back and shook his head. "You really are an idiot, Toni. I really don't know what to do with you."_

An elbow nudged John, bringing him back to the present. He blinked a couple of times, trying to regain focus on whatever was going on.

It had been Oliver who nudged him and now looked at him expectantly. John cursed himself for zoning out in such a way and whispered, "What?"

"Well, don't you want to head back to the bloody hotel?" Oliver asked, chuckling softly. "Everyone else has already left." He gestured around him at the empty room, before standing up and holding out his hand for John. "C'mon. Let's go."

Shit. John grabbed the Briton's hand and allowed himself to be led back to the totally decked out hotel that most of the nations shared.

Tomorrow, they'd wait for the five teen's to return.

**_Done! To think that I finished this in two days~ This was really fun~ Anyway, next chapter is Angelo's point of view, as promised~ And yes, I'm so sorry Spain! TT^TT I made France hit you, but you were being an idiot... Please be smarter in the future. Oh wait._**

**_Heh, anyway please review and all that jazz. I'll be updating soon, I promise. I love this story too much to procrastenate it as much as I've done with my other stories. Thank you all of those faithful readers and friends that have stuck to me, even though this is frellin' sad. (*Cough*xXBlacksunshineXx*cough*)_**

**_Kiwi\(*0*)/_**


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